


Foliage

by Bearfeat



Series: Spectrum [8]
Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Caretaking, Hey look it's Water, Laryngitis, M/M, Masks, Unholy Water because why not, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-14 20:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7188851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearfeat/pseuds/Bearfeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ghost has been touring non-stop for such a long time, it is starting to take its toll from the band. Papa is feeling the consequences physically, Omega is losing track of time and forgets in which cities they are playing every night,  Water is angry at Omega's denial, and an innocent man is shaken to the bone when he finds himself in a theater in Paris, not knowing how he got there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was supposed to see Ghost on a festival yesterday and almost cried when it was announced that Papa Emeritus was sick. Still disappointed I didn't get to see them this time, a new addition to the plot of this series formed in my brain as a small constellation.  
> Get well soon, my love!

Omega watched as Water neatly folded his trousers and placed it over the hanger. Carefully, he stroked the wrinkles out of his costume before pushing the neat bundle of clothes in the bag and zipping it all the way up. The bass player turned around in their shared dressing room, eying the larger man. Omega could tell Water was troubled. He had taken a deep breath a couple times, as if he was going to say something. Then he had shaken his head, waiving the thought. And now he was staring at Omega, who had made no effort to undress. He held his mask loosely in his hand, the balaclava pulled down over his neck.

‘I don’t want us to play tomorrow.’ Water finally said. ‘I think we should take some time off.’

Omega didn’t move. He stared down at the mask in his hands, knowing Air and Earth were probably having the same conversation in their dressing room right now. Alpha was probably already looking forward to not having to go on a plane.

 

‘People have payed to see us.’ Omega sighed, and the authoritarian tone in his voice almost made Water bite his tongue and not argue with him. Almost.

‘People payed to see a good show. We are burning up, Omega.’ He was only wearing boxers and socks, but you couldn’t tell from the determined look on the smaller ghoul’s face.

‘Papa’s voice has been shit this week.’

 

Aether quickly stood up, ready to tell him to watch his tone, but Water shoved a finger in his face. He looked frustrated. Angry, even.

‘Don’t you dare tell me it’s not true.’ He said. ‘Don’t you tell me you are not tired.’

 

Omega growled and turned around. He left the dressing room without saying another word. Outside, he stretched and arched his aching back. He sighed, because yes, he was tired. He was dog-tired. He had been feeling like time and space were blurring. He used to think that every place was its own entity, but he now knew that asphalt and gasoline smelled the same in New York, London and Stockholm. He now struggled to remember in which city he was when he was inside the theater. He stopped in front of Papa’s dressing room, his fist raised up in the air, ready to knock. Right before his knuckle touched the wood he saw a glimpse of a poster on the wall announcing Ghost in French. Paris, he thought, when he heard a meek voice invite him in.

 

Papa lay on his couch, his shoes and socks scattered on the floor. When Omega walked in, he raised his head and tried to sit up, but he gave up halfway. Aether noticed he had turned the heat way up. The room smelled like someone had tried to clean it real fast and with a lot of product: the citrus prickled in his nose. It made him wonder what it was the cleaner had tried to cover.

‘How are you holding up?’ he asked.

‘I am not, my dear Omega.’ Papa’s voice was hoarse and he swallowed painfully. Omega softly placed his mask on the desk and pulled in a chair. He put his hand on Papa’s chest.

 

‘Oh shit.’ He said, when he felt the costume was soaked in sweat. Then he saw how red Papa’s eyes and ears were.

‘You’re really sick.’ Papa shivered and pulled up his shoulders.

‘Are you cold?’ Omega said. Emeritus nodded.

‘Wait.’ Omega told him. ‘Can you sit up?’

Slowly but surely, Papa moved himself up and put his feet on the ground. Omega looked around, but couldn’t find a coat. He unbuttoned his shirt, took it off and draped it around Papa’s shoulders. Papa looked up at Omega like a helpless child. He would have protested him giving him his clothes if he wasn’t truly fucking cold right now. Omega’s hands felt warm on his shoulders. The larger man leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

 

Emeritus hung his head. When he spoke again, it was in such a pained voice that Omega could almost feel it in his own throat.

‘I thought I could totally wing it today, but after Year Zero I felt like crying.’

‘It wasn’t that bad…’Omega tried, but when Papa looked up he couldn’t hide the truth in his eyes.

‘We still have tomorrow, the day after that, and Wednesday…’ he sighed. Omega rubbed his shoulders. ‘You don’t have to, you know.’ He said, but Papa shook his head.

‘No, I do! We’ve been in America for a long time, people have been waiting for us here…’

‘This weekend… they are festivals. Don’t you beat yourself up about that.’

 

Papa shivered again, harder now, and the shaking didn’t completely stop when he whispered: ‘it sucks so fucking hard!’

Aether looked at the man concerned, feeling the sweat drip down his own back.

‘It really stinks in here.’ Papa said, and Omega saw him gag.

‘Do you need to throw up?’ now the ghoul was really worried. Emeritus nodded and quickly stood up, but swerved. Omega grabbed his arm.

 

He stroked Papa’s hair away from his face as the smaller man winced above the toiled and vomited. His soaking body arched and shook as his stomach contracted and pushed out all the water he had been drinking and the little food he had managed to put away that evening. The poor guy felt so tender under his hands Omega was scared he might fall apart.

When the vomiting finally stopped and Emeritus had spat out the last remains of bile, he sat back, resting his head against the wall.

 

‘I’m so sorry.’ He said. Omega was silent for a moment.

‘Why?’ he finally asked.

‘It’s all gone to shit.’ Papa wiped his mouth with his sleeve and tried to dry his eyes with the back of his hand. The tears that sprung from his eyes due to the puking, had made the paint run and black smudges rubbed on his hand.

‘You need to rest.’ Omega said, adamant. He stood up. ‘Let’s get you to the bus.’ He helped Papa up, intercepting his swerving again by wrapping an arm around his hips. He walked the man back to the couch to get his shoes.

 

‘Omega!’ Papa suddenly said, a slight panic raising in his hoarse throat. ‘Omega, I need to get out of this mask!’ Omega looked at him. ‘Are you sure?’ he plumped Papa down on the couch. Emeritus waved his hands like he needed air. ‘I’m so fucking hot in this mask!’

‘Will that not scare him?’ Omega asked, looking around for tissues or a towel.

‘Yes, he will be scared. But he knows you. You need to calm him. Furthermore, his blood is boiling now too. Hurry up with that towel, my dear!’

 

Omega found one in Emeritus’ bag an handed it to him, along with the bottle of Unholy Water. Papa poured some on it, and hands shaking, traced it over his face. He started at the hairline, down his cheek and over his chin. The paint came clean off where the towel touched the mask.

‘Belial.’ Papa said.

‘Belial.’ Omega repeated.

Papa poured more water on the towel, and rubbed it over the other cheek.

‘Behemoth.’

‘Behemoth.’

He sprinkled some more and removed the last bit of paint from his eyes and mouth.

‘Beelzebub.’

‘Beelzebub.’

 

He handed Omega the towel and reached for the buttons on his collar. Aether watched him struggle for exactly one whole second before he slapped Papa’s hands away and started to undress his upper body. When he stripped away Papa’s costume, he saw the sweat glisten on his pale chest. Their eyes locked when Omega pulled the fabric over his shoulders and Emeritus freed his arms.

‘Asmodeus.’ Papa said, as Omega stared into his white eye.

‘Asmodeus.’ He whispered. He peeled the silicone from Papa’s sweaty collarbone and Papa’s hands landed on his for a second. They couldn’t speak, but a warning came from Emeritus’ eyes. Then, Omega felt how Papa’s fingers were softly stroking his wrists. With all he had left, Papa gave him a warm smile when he softly said: ‘Satanas.’

‘Satanas.’ Omega repeated, his voice nearly breaking. Papa closed his eyes as Aether gently pulled the mask up, removing the cage and the character.

 

‘Lucifer!’ the smaller, shivering man bellowed as if he had been holding his breath, and he gasped for air, looking anxiously around the room with his two skittish, green eyes.

‘Lucifer.’ Omega said softly.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Lucifer!’ the man heard someone yell. It was the first thing he remembered. The sound fell flat in the damp room and an awful smell filled his nose before he could actually register where he was. Then he realized the yell came from his own throat.

‘Lucifer.’ It was a soft voice, not his own this time, coming from some place right in front of him. He felt his eyes move, but he saw nothing. He blinked, noticing a dry stinging in his left eye. Slowly, his vision returned.

 

As the mist disappeared from his eyes, a terrible feeling boiled up through his throat, like it was raw and on fire. Almost as terrible was the taste in his mouth. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the next thing that hit him was the awful heat in this room: he felt as if he was burning from the inside and his face felt like it was going to melt off. Then, all the warmth was sucked out of him and he started to shiver uncontrollably, hit by a wave of goose bumps. His blood pressure dropped and he felt like fainting. When two large hands grabbed his shoulders, he realized he was naked from the waist up.

 

‘Hey! It’s alright! It’s okay! I am here!’ the voice said. The man’s green eyes finally focused on the source of the kind voice.

In front of him sat another man: large, also just in trousers. Two of the bluest eyes, filled with concern, looked at him. The man gasped again when their eyes locked, but this time not because of returning to consciousness. He felt a deep, inexplicable love for the blue eyes staring at him. For a moment he forgot his aching body completely. He swallowed hard, which reminded him of the bad taste and the sore throat. Confused, he sighed deeply and took a few large breaths. Slowly, the intense feeling faded. And with that, everything.

 

He started to scream. His voice sounded hoarse and broken and it made his throat feel like knives were being stung in them, but he couldn’t stop. He felt like a newborn, thrown into this world, not knowing anything, not knowing how to _not_ scream. Everything around him scared him. His whole body hurt. The room smelled like something had died in here. He gagged from the smell and the pain in his throat, his stomach contracted, but he took a deep breath and screamed again.

 

‘Sssssh, ssssssh, it’s alright!’ the man in front of him said, but he shook the big hands off his shoulders. His body felt used. He opened his mouth again, but he couldn’t produce any sound anymore. Empty and hurting, he fell over on the couch.

 

Omega had prepared for the worst, but this felt like a sting to his heart. He put a hand back on the shoulder of the man, who was now sobbing in pain, but he didn’t know what else to do. He kept on repeating ‘It’s alright, I am here.’ But the man didn’t seem to hear him. He gagged again, and cried because he didn’t understand why he was gagging. They had to wait it out. Once before, the mask had to be removed quickly and without a proper ritual, and the effect had been similar, only that time, Papa had not been sick. He had been rather strong, actually, Omega recalled, because the man had punched him square in the face. But there was nothing he could do. Absinthe helped the last time, but adding alcohol to the situation did not seem as good as an idea now.

 

So Omega stroked his hair from his face and dabbed his forehead with the clean side of the towel. He watched and felt his heart break as his friend was squirming, sobbing, and gagging. And like always, after a few heart-wrenching moments, a look of sense came to the face of the man. His green, angry eyes looked up at Omega as he allowed him to wipe the tears from his face.

 

 

‘Who the fuck are you?’ he managed to produce, talking Swedish again. Talking hurt.

‘You will remember me in a few minutes.’ Aether replied.

 

‘Tell me who you are.’ The man stared at him, mistrustful. Omega told him his name. His real name. He saw a flicker of recognition in the man’s eyes. Then, Omega called the name of the other. ‘We are friends. You are sick, it is a fever.’

His shivering friend looked at the masks on the table.

‘I don’t understand. Why am I not wearing a shirt?’

‘Right.’ Omega stood up and searched for a shirt in Papa’s bag. The man took it from him, but still didn’t look at him as if he recognized or trusted him.

 

‘Do you want some water?’ Aether asked him.

‘No, _thanks_.’ He snarled back. The man saw Omega grimace and he almost felt guilty. He did not really look like someone who could have done something bad to him, he thought. His stomach contracted, and Omega quickly stepped closer.

‘Do you have to vomit again?’

Again? Suddenly, he recognized the taste in his mouth.

‘I don’t know.’ He looked at his hands. This isn’t happening, he thought. This is a nightmare.

 

Aether called his name again, and when he looked up, he saw him holding out a glass of water for him. Carefully, he took it and sipped from it. It actually made him feel a little better. The other man sat down next to him.

 

‘Omega.’ He heard his friend say. Omega looked up, but his eyes were not met by those of the other: he was staring at the masks on the table.

‘Ghost.’ He said, pointing at the ghoul mask.

 

A very clear memory of a roaring crowd appeared before the man’s eyes. Then he remembered Alpha’s hands, as they slid up the neck of his guitar. Then he remembered Omega’s real name.

The glass of water fell to the ground.

 

‘Goddammit. Holy shit. Fucking what?!’ he took another deep breath and struggled to speak. His throat really fucking hurt, but he needed answers.

‘Why did you unmask me without the ritual? In the middle of a stinking dressing room?’

Omega smiled in relief when he saw kindness return to the man’s eyes.

 

‘Because you are really sick.’ He answered. A shade fell over the face of the other man.

‘That fucking bastard.’ He snarled at the mask. ‘Of course, _he_ doesn’t have to live with the consequences.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, he is the one who vomited.’

‘Yeah, no. That does not make me feel any better.’ The weight on the couch shifted as the larger man stood up. The other sat and looked as Omega gathered their things.

 

‘You are right, you know.’ His friend said and Omega looked back.

‘What?’

‘I can’t do the shows tomorrow and Sunday and maybe even Wednesday. I. Am. So. Tired.’ He emphasized every last word.

‘Let’s get you home.’ Omega held out his hand. His friend stood up, but his legs didn’t seem to be able to support his weight.

 

 

‘I will have you know, that I will not be your damsel in distress.’ The smaller man said, as Omega carried him to the tour bus in his arms. The man had tried to protest, but his voice was really slipping now and he didn’t even have the energy to stand, let alone argue.

As he pictured being carried inside by his friend, expecting to be ridiculed by the others, he drifted off. For a second, his body tensed up, afraid of losing control again, but when he remembered who was carrying him, he allowed the sleep to set in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, I am not interested in knowing or using the real names and describing the likenesses of the people in this band. Of course, like many fans, I've come across names and pictures as they are sometimes thrown around freely on fan-sites and such, but I will not participate in that. I hope you didn't find this relatively name-free chapter too unreadable. Maybe I'll find a more fitting solution.
> 
> However, I WILL be a hypocrite and not refrain from describing penises. Not that I've seen a Ghost penis IRL, but hey, a girl can dream.


	3. Chapter 3

He knew before he was awake that he had lost his voice. The strange, feverish dream was printed freshly in his memory. A tight grip of loneliness had formed around his throat, but he remembered in time that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alone at all.

From the open door that bordered his hotel room with another, he could hear Omega snore. He remembered the deep love he felt for his friend as Papa Emeritus left his body. Papa had kissed Omega. Papa had fucked him. He had happily leant his body for all Papa’s sexual escapades, but never before did he actually feel the love that Papa could feel.

He wondered when the relationship Papa and Omega shared – whatever kind of relationship that would be- would confuse Omega more than what he could already read in his eyes now. He wondered how sustainable the situation was.   
And he wondered if that love he felt for him was a feeling exclusively belonging to Papa Emeritus.


End file.
